Demon Eyes
by CrimsonNoble
Summary: She said it might be connected to another universe. She was right. They expected me to be the same when I came out. They were wrong.” Alternate Universe beginning at the twelfth Angel. Crossover with Samurai Deeper Kyo. Rating pending change.
1. One, 20 03 2004

**Demon Eyes**

_By CrimsonNoble._

_Author's Notes: I thought, 'Wow, RK crossovers are really popular… but that's kinda sad. I mean, Shinji never goes through his, "I kill people," stage.' Then I think, 'You know, I should do something about that.' And finally, an idea comes. 'Demon Eyes Kyo! He's perfect!'_

_Based upon the manga SDK, simply because Kyo is so much more badass there. And yeah, Kyo is like Kenshin magnified a hundredfold. _

_Please note that this is my first first person POV to be put for public viewing. So rag on me._

_Why I've decided Shinji is fifteen… Well, we're repeatedly shown that Tokyo-3 has had time to reconstruct between Angel attacks, and at this point there have been twelve of them. Reconstruction of a lot of a major city takes more than just a couple of weeks, so I'm assuming there's a month at least between each Angel. And we're never told when any of the pilot's birthday's are. Nor are we told when the series starts. I think it's safe to assume that he's at least a year older than when he started piloting. Don't blame me for holes in canon._

_Basically, this is my third-priority fic, first two being Stahl Nacht and Ocean Red. Meaning sporadic updates._

I have yet to decide if I will set romance, but if I do, it will be Shinji/Rei, and it will accept that they are siblings for all intents and purposes. Heh, you want an anime about incest, go watch Angel Sanctuary.

"God said to Abraham, 'Kill me a son.' Abe says, 'Man, you must be putting me on.' God say, 'No.' Abe say, 'What?' God say, 'You can do what you want, Abe, but the next time you see me coming, you better run.' Abe says, 'Where do you want this killing done?' And God says, 'Out on Highway 61'." ~The Hunted.

Disclaimer: I own neither Samurai Deeper Kyo nor Neon Genesis Evangelion. Applies to all future chapters.

Summary: "She said it might be connected to another universe. She was right. They expected me to be the same when I came out. They were wrong." Alternate Universe beginning at the twelfth Angel. Shinji Ikari lived another life inside the Sea of Dirac. He lived the life of Demon Eyes Kyo…

Chapter One: I Return 

I lie still as my senses slowly come back. The first thing I recognize as they do is that I'm lying in some sort of half-filled tube.

…What happened? The last thing I remember is Mibu…

Where is he? I'm going to kill him! 

Abruptly there's a woman wrapping her arms around my neck, and if I weren't so weak she'd be dead. No one surprises me like that.

She's… crying? Is there a reason for it? I think she said something, but I wasn't listening.

"Where…?" Is all I manage before I black out again.

/|\

This is becoming too habitual. I shouldn't keep passing out like this. I'm stronger than _this!_

It's a long minute before I realize what I'm lying on. And even then it's a long time before it manages to sink in.

A bed? Where the _hell_ am I? And more importantly, _where the hell are Mibu and my sword?_

As my eyes slowly creak open, I see a mop of blue hair, almost glowing iridescently in the unusual light.

"Sakuya…?" I manage to creak out, though the voice is pitched somewhat higher then I remember.

No. She has red eyes. Like mine. The color of blood. Like my hair. Which brings to mind another point, I don't have enough hair… I bring a hand up to my scalp to check. No, not enough hair.

Red eyes that are, at the moment, almost staring at me with a curious look. Almost. Who is this girl? She's not wearing a kimono, and I think I vaguely recognize her…

My head hurts as I try to recall her name.

"Pilot Ikari?" She asks.

Who's Ikari? Slowly, ignoring the ache in my head, I twist my neck to look for someone else. It's at this point that I realize my armor is gone. And for that matter, so are my clothes.

"Pilot Ikari?" She repeats.

It takes a moment, but then it occurs to me that she might actually be talking to me.

My name is Ikari?

A memory enters my head, red eyes, blue hair; skin the color of a sake bottle, and a smile… a name. Rei. Zero. Spirit.

I want something to drink…

It feels like my head's about to explode.

"Rei?" I ask, unable to do anything else. Damn this is annoying.

She blinks slowly. I don't know, I think she knows something's different.

I force myself upright, bracing my hands on the squishy mattress.

And, for the first time, I realize what I look like. This is _not_ me! I am _not_ this scrawny! I am _not_ this young! There is _no_ way this body is mine!

It crosses my mind that I probably look like an idiot, staring at myself like this. But that's not important, compared to my state. I look like a child!

"Is something wrong, Pilot Ikari?" She asks. She sounds quite uninterested, but I'm not sure about it. I can't remember her… but I remember her apathy.

I feel like something is very wrong.

After a few minutes I respond, "Yes. There is."

She stands to leave. "I will call the doctor then."

I snort. They won't be able to help. Unless they often have people trapped in other people's bodies.

I ignore the girl who disappears as the door opens and the albino exits. Is she that terrifying? She's only a girl…

As I shove myself out of the bed, I stagger slightly, thrown off by the odd garment on my legs. I haven't seen anything like them, though they do faintly remind me of a split-skirt, hakama.

As someone breaches my maai, I whirl, my hand going for the Muramasa that should have been in my left hand.

I, of course, knew that it wouldn't find anything. The sword isn't here any more than I am in my body.

Which brings to mind the question of where my body is. Logically, it should be somewhere.

My thoughts are interrupted as the purple haired woman almost tackles me into the wall, saved only by me posting out. I am glad to notice that my unnatural strength has stayed more or less completely, even though I still don't look anything like what I should.

"Shinji!" She shouts, almost in my ear. By the sword, this woman is getting annoying.

Though the name triggers something lying dormant in the back of my head. A splitting pain erupts as I remember who these people are.

I almost collapse. And that's saying a lot. Because I don't fall. Ever.

I remember this woman, Katsuragi. I know she was my guardian. I know what I'm wearing, pants, and where I am, NERV hospital at the Geofront. But I still don't care.

So what if I know these people? Knew rather, because I've had years to grow without them. Years to become what I am.

And I'm still going to kill Mibu.

"Get off," I growl in a guttural tone. My hands are clenching involuntarily, itching to wrap around her neck.

She ignores my imperative, and remains on me like a leech. I don't think she's actually looked at my face yet.

I don't bother with a second warning, and my knee rams into her gut, hard. She's lifted off the floor by the force of the blow, nothing special by my standards, and collapses.

The door opens again, and another presence enters my maai.

I look up from the woman, standing straight, and tilt my head slightly to the right to stare at him. He's a doctor.

"I'm leaving," I say coldly.

The foolish man tries to keep me from passing him, and in response I slam him face first into the wall. I think his nose is broken, but I could be wrong about that. I'm not an expert on identifying injuries. Just on killing people. And all I know is there was a crunch when he hit, and now he's bleeding.

I leave the room, leaving a gasping Katsuragi and an unconscious doctor behind.

I don't know if I went back in time when the Angel sucked me in, but I know that the boy I used to be wasn't taught about me. More likely then that the world forgot me.

Which nevertheless means my sword still exists somewhere. And I will find it. I ponder the question of my armor for a while, but decide that it probably decayed long ago.

And I also wonder what happened to Akira and the other three. Well, obviously they _are_ dead.

A sigh of exasperation escapes my lips, and I, relying on memories more than two decades old, try to navigate the fortress.

Already I can tell that it's just going to be one of those days. Life was so much simpler back then.

/|\

As I step into the light of the outside world, and coincidentally into the pollution of Tokyo-3, I yawn. Some of my memories have gone bad over the long years, and it took a while to find the exit.

Idly I wonder if I'm as fast as I was, and I decide to test myself.

The next instant I'm standing a full twenty meters from my former position, and I smile in satisfaction. I still got it.

I turn my thoughts once again to my sword. I know it was left at Sekigahara, but I think it probable that the bastard Mibu stole it after I… what happened to me anyway? _He_ couldn't have killed _me_…

Which means what? I shrug the thoughts off in favor of my sword.

So it could be anywhere in Japan. I refuse to think of the possibility that it could be in another country. The Muramasa is a valuable sword, yes. But there's no way it could have been taken elsewhere. That is simply impossible.

The most likely locations I can think of for it are Sekigahara itself, Edo, Kyoto, and Tokyo. Any of the Tokyos.

Well, I'm already in the Third Tokyo. Might as well look for it here.

Where though? I haven't seen a weapons dealer yet…

The museum perhaps? It's a fairly logical place for it to be. Yes, that will be where I look for it first.

It's at this point that I realize I'm still only wearing a pair of pants. "Hell," I whisper. "Better find some clothes first."

As I pass a windowpane, I notice that there is at least one thing right with this body. My eyes…

They're still the color of fresh blood.

/|\

Dressed in my newly appropriated clothing, I step once again onto the streets of this new city. I'm not quite sure what the family that owns the house is going to think when they find that one of their kimonos has been replaced by hospital pants, but that's not my problem.

Finding my Muramasa is.

I walk away from the house at a demure pace, heading straight toward the museum. If it has my sword, that's good. If it doesn't…

I'll probably kill the curator. Hell, I'll kill him anyway, but that's beside the point.

I take a look at the street, full of people, and then I look upward, gauging the height of the buildings lining the street.

No, I decide. I don't think I could get on top without being seen. I'm already garnering odd looks for my choice of dress, and disappearing might start people asking questions.

I shove through the crowd, ignoring the way the mass of bodies tried to prevent me accessing a direct route to the museum. I'm tempted to start killing them, but I refrain from doing so, I want my sword, not to be arrested. Yet anyway. After I get my sword, they won't be able to take me.

I shove my way off the sidewalk, onto the stairs of the museum. It was an impressive building, built like a pagoda, though why that was the style decided upon is far beyond me.

Some arrogant people might have said that they could have felt the weapon. I will not say so. I can, however, say that I had a feeling in my gut. I had the distinct impression that my sword _was_ there.

The door slid open before me automatically, and despite the eleven or so years of memories, counted as thus because I don't remember much before I was four, it still surprises me.

I have time to see my crimson eyes widen in astonishment before my reflection disappears as the door shuts.

I absentmindedly slide a stolen pair of sunglasses on, concealing my admittedly unusual eyes from view, though I suppose the image clashes with the kimono I wear.

The curator steps in front of me as I enter, smiling broadly. He is evidently happy that he had someone, no matter how odd, in his museum. Then again, it might just be that he was amused by my kimono-sunglasses combination.

Yes, the killer of one thousand men amusing to watch. If I weren't going to kill him anyway, right now, at the thought, I know that I would kill him just for that. Yeah. Just for the thought of what he _might_ be thinking.

He speaks cheerfully. "Good morning!" It is? I thought it was noon at least already. Oh. Right. That's just how people greet each other. That and 'good evening'.

My musings are ignored by everyone. That's just the way the shit goes down. "Is there anything in particular you would like to see?"

I grin broadly at him. "Swords. Preferably from around the time of the battle of Sekigahara. Give or take about ten years."

"A good time for swords!" The man exclaims. I roll my eyes, though he doesn't see the action. Swords are swords. Not wine. No such thing as a good or bad year. Unless you count the amazingly badly forged swords manufactured now.

"Yes, I think so too." I agree, sounding like a mindless drone. Yes, that's what I should sound like. Someone with a passing interest in swords, nothing more. After all, I'm only interested in one sword.

He starts toward the area of the museum dealing with that time. I follow, ignoring his attempts at small talk. The man notices this, or I think he does. And, while his tone takes on a more subdued quality, he doesn't stop talking.

We arrived at the display what seems like hours later. I am almost ready to kill the man, as he is that irritating. I can feel my nails digging crescents into my palm. There's warm blood dripping down my knuckles, and I make a mental note to clean that up when I leave. Well, I might not have time to, depending on the alarms set off by my retrieval of the weapon.

And there it is. My Muramasa… my eyes glow as they fall upon the undefeated weapon. It lies there in the glass, sharper than any razor, still honed to a killing edge.

I walk casually up to the glass, my gaze locked on it. The curator notices, and starts to ask about my fascination with the weapon. In his eyes it is nothing special, just a blade that has been taken unusually good care of.

Then my fist shatters the glass, and has locked around the hilt of the blade before the sound reaches my ears. It feels so right to have the blade back in my hand…

I whirl, ignoring the cuts the glass deals as more breaks because of the way I rip my arm out, and the curator is falling in two pieces. By the look on his face, I'd say that he didn't have time to realize what was happening before I bisected him diagonally. Heh, I split his heart in two.

Oh yeah. I still got it.

I wipe the sword off on his clothes, tearing off a strip to make a tourniquet for my arm, before reaching back into the case for the sheath.

"This belongs to me," I inform the recently deceased man before I walk away.

I am careful to exit through the back of the museum, so no one sees me exiting. The Muramasa is hidden inside a long, thin box that I sling across my shoulder to ease carrying. I did have some difficulty finding a box big enough, I mean, the sword is almost as long as I am tall, but I did find one in the end, after cleaning my blood off the floor.

My bandaged hand is lying across my stomach, hidden inside the folds of my kimono. I'm not sure why, but I've put my bandage on in such a way that it looks like the arm-guards we used to wear as samurai.

The image brings back only one memory, my guards splashed with red. I really do wonder what happened to my body. It is, possibly, the only thing I'm really concerned about, now that I've found my sword.

Body… the Katsuragi woman did have a nice body, I give her that. And I lived with her. Ah, yes. That's going to have to change. I'm not just Shinji Ikari anymore.

I'm Demon Eyes Kyo. Slayer of one thousand men.

I wonder why they don't mention me in their histories… Oh well. They'll remember me now…

A smile splits my lips as my eyes close languidly, exposing my incisor teeth.

Somewhere in the distance an ambulance siren screams as it rushes toward the museum.

Why an ambulance? The man's already dead. Surely with all the wonders of modern technology they can divine that much. If they can't… That's just sad. I mean, I'm not even a doctor, and I can tell that he's dead.

Possibly it has something to do with the way he's lying in two pieces?

End Chapter

Stuff: Ahoy there. Armguards: Think those things Kenshin's wearing in the OAV, if you haven't seen that, then the things Soujiro's wearing. Maai: more or less what I remember of the definition given by Benitora in the third manga, it's a field generated by swordsmen through use of their Ki. If anyone enters it, the samurai knows. Think of it as if they're standing in a pool of water, and when someone steps in, they know it. Only really good samurai and newborn children can enter without being noticed.


	2. Two, 19 06 2004

Demon Eyes 

_by__ CrimsonNoble_

_Author's Notes: End of Chapter_

Chapter Two: I Push…

I stumble as the elevator jerks up against my feet, nearly throwing me to the floor. This is just weird. This… thing is moving under me. I'm still trying to figure out why this is surprising to me, but I suppose a couple of decades will do that to a person.

The Muramasa is still in its box, even though I really want to hold the weapon in my hands. It just doesn't feel right to not hold the weapon. Like something's missing.

Well, it's still better than not having the weapon. I really miss being able to walk around with it out. But then, I don't really want to be on the most wanted list for killing cops. Nah, there are better reasons for being on that list.

Panic once again explodes as I feel more or less everything inside my gut tries to escape through my mouth as the elevator abruptly stops. I don't think I'm _ever_ going to get used to this. To hell with the elevator! I'm taking the stairs next time.

I step out cautiously, trying my best to remember which door the apartment is. I'm standing still, probably a mistake, but it's so _hard_ to remember things about this place. I know it was off one of the corners of the cut-away of the building, but I don't know which one.

I shrug, and try the first. Fortunately, it opens, and I recognize the Yebisu beer cans lying scattered about. The woman obviously has no taste in alcohol. Or men, for that matter. Ah, yes. Point, I'm going to kill Gendo. Not because he abandoned me, no. That's over and done with. Just because I don't particularly like him. It's a matter of principle: No one goes unpaid. And Gendo has a big reward coming.

Maybe he'll hear the voice of the wind? Nah. He's not worth it.

Yeah. Just because I don't like him. So what?

Great. Now I'm talking to myself. Responding to my own objections. Just _fuckin__'_ great.

I'm halfway across the living room before the redhead steps in front of me. I start to go around her, and she steps in front of me again.

"What do you want?" I half-snarl, half-slur.

"I'm hungry!" She shouts at me.

I almost blink. I'm supposed to care, why? Stupid bitch.

"Right. Whatever. Get outta my way." I respond boredly. Or, at least, I'd like to think it was boredly. It was probably more like annoyed. But I think it got my point across decently.

"_What_!? _Idiot_, cook me something!" She yelps.

Damn, this is getting dull. I decide that no, I don't care enough to hit her yet. "Get out of my way," I repeat, more annoyed this time.

Her eyes narrow. Is that supposed to be intimidating? Or is she just stupid? She opens her mouth to speak, but I interrupt her. "Is something wrong with your eyes, or are you just a moron?"

Yeah. I really do want to know the answer. If she thinks she can threaten _me_, she's going to be learning a painful lesson. Quickly, and soon. I'm half praying that she does think she can threaten me. She's getting really irritating.

"_Idiot!__ Get in the kitchen and make me some food!"_ She bellows in my face. Man, she needs to brush her teeth, I observe. And mouthwash. Because right now, her breath smells like the proverbial fan the shit hit.

Man, I crack me up sometimes.

"No." I say coldly, and shove her away before walking past. I don't bother looking to see what she's doing as I cross the room, enter the hall, and finally reach my room.

The door slams shut as I enter, cutting off the girl's view of my back. Before the door shuts, I've dropped the box with my sword in it, and almost synchronized with the echo of the paper-wall shutting, I kick the box open.

There it is. My Muramasa… I pull it from the box, playing absently with some of the loose leather on the saya. I really want to kill something. Come to think of it, I'm hungry too. I mentally go over my checklist of things to do.

It reads: Meat. Clothes. Kill. Woman. Sake.

Yeah. That's a good list. I want my yin-yang kimono back. I deliberately ignore the fact that it's probably decayed by now, and instead consider the possibility of even better materials having come into existence since then. Hey, I just said I ignored it, not that I didn't accept it.

Damn it! I'm retorting to my own arguments! Again!

The door bashes open, and I feel the redhead enter. I turn and glare at her, before I realize that my sunglasses are still on, and she can't see my eyes. Her eyes come so close to flashing, it's almost funny. Really, she's pissed at me. Man, this just went back over into hilarious.

"What?" I snarl, though the sound comes out several decibels lower than I intended. This voice is going to take a hell of a lot of getting used to…

It takes a while for me to realize that she's talking. Does the bitch ever shut up?

"… I'm_ HUNGRY! Stupid _Shinji! Make me something to eat!"

I turn away, ignoring her. She's getting annoying. I'm going to have to kill her if she doesn't shut up.

And then, she hits me.

_She hits me!_

That _fucking whore_ is going to die!

I whirl, the Muramasa whipping around to slam into her hip, shattering the pelvic bone, the fragments of which slice most uncomfortably looking into her more sensitive areas, and sending her flying into the hall again. I frown, that should have bisected her, not sent her flying. It's a long moment before I look at my sword.

Ah. Such a shame. I forgot to pop the blade. She's going to live. Well, she's not going to be very happy about it, but she'll survive. Not happy at all. Feh, she's going to die. I'll let her suffer a bit longer though.

Ouuu! That's a great idea! My lips curve into a sadistic smirk. Hell yes! This bitch is going to pay!

I've changed my mind. I'm going to let her live. Not without punishment, of course. She's going to be hating me for a long time. Maybe I'll just have to make sure she sees me every damn day…

I walk over to her, writhing as she is on the floor. Damn, you think she'd know how to take pain a little better. But then, I guess she's just a pathetic woman after all. Never felt actual pain.

She's going to be feeling pain for the rest of her life. Oh yes, she's going to be feeling pain.

I lift the still-sheathed Muramasa in a reversed grip as I reach her, having a bit of difficulty getting it as high as I need. I feel a bit short. Hell, I'm almost a full four inches from my real height. My flat six feet reduced to five-eight. This is pathetic. Aiming is going to be a bitch… but I'm not going to miss.

"Touch me again, and I _will_ kill you. This is a small punishment for you."

I grin, baring my incisors again, looking down at her. The insect. She's going to regret fucking with me.

Because when you fuck with me… You fuck with the best. And when you mess with the best, you die like the rest.

I bring the weapon down hard, and the encased tip crashes into her lower abdomen, driving her into the floor with about the same force that's behind a bolt of lightning. I lift the sheathed weapon, and repeat the action, in a slightly different place. I'm not exactly sure what I hit, but I'm fairly sure I just reduced her chances of reproducing to almost nothing. Damn good thing too, that piece of hereditary trash should never be passed on.

I grin wider, showing more of my teeth, though she doesn't see it. She's somewhat occupied by whatever I damaged.

I kick her again for good measure. It doesn't actually do anything, no more bone breaking at least. But I don't think I can really hurt her more. Heh…

I turn, walking back into my room. The door slides shut, blocking my view of the half-woman lying on the floor.

She's not going to be happy. Heh…

Man, I'm good.

/ ---

I blink at the purple haired woman in front of me. She's angry. I wonder why. Silly bitch.

She's going pink! Heh… I think she's actually getting angry at me!

"Shinji!" She yelps. Yeah. Yelps. She really sounds like a dog. It's odd. She's a bit mentally deficient, apparently. I wonder if she knows that I have my sword?

She'll die if she pisses me off. That's just the way things work. The strong live… the weak die.

No. That doesn't sound good enough. The strong are strong… and the weak are dead. Yeah. That's much better.

It's about this point that I realize I've tuned her out again. Too bad for her, I mentally shrug, and continue ignoring her. This seems to annoy her more. It's… rather pitiful, how she doesn't seem to notice my style of dress. Ah, well. Too bad for her.

I begin to twiddle with the wrapping around the sheath. That confused me, why would anyone put that garbage on a sword? I suppose it could help with Iai, but… the Muramasa is a bit long for Iai. And that's probably bullshit anyway.

I tug the cloth-crap off the weapon's casing, and begin to shred it. About the time I've reduced it to, more or less, individual strands, I realize that the woman is still talking. She's getting irritating.

"Shut up," I snap, and stand, grasping the saya of the weapon. She appears to notice it for the first time, if the look in her eyes is anything to judge by. She's rather amusing.

"Just _where_ did you get _that_?" she demands angrily. Heh… she _demands _of _me_! The irony is just sickening.

"It's mine," I respond curtly as I turn and stroll toward the door.

She virtually explodes at this, with a shout of, "You are not allowed to leave the apartment! And I'm going to have to confiscate that weapon!"

I turn slowly, tilting my head in the process as I remove my sunglasses. My lips spread in a somewhat sadistic grin that once again reveals my teeth. "Wanna try and stop me?" I ask, feeling my eyes flare expectantly.

She steps back, apparently surprised by my eyes. Heh… she's such a hypocrite.

I turn, and continue out the door, the Muramasa dragging slightly as my height alters the angle I need to carry it at to keep it from brushing the ground, but habit prevents me from changing the angle I have it at. Or maybe I'm just lazy.

Whatever.

/ ---

As I sit on the train, my arm draped loosely around my sword, I realize something. Something really obvious.

I'm really, really, _fucking_ bored. Damn this body for being fourteen! I can't even get a drink! What the hell is wrong with this place?

Further complications, I suspect I'm going to be dealing with police soon. Well, they're going to die. Shit, this sucks.

I glance up at the indicator for the stop, and shrug. Why the hell not? It's near an access to the… Geofront, was it? And anyway, I do have to negotiate new living arrangements. Otherwise the German whore and the purple-haired one are going to die.

Slowly, and painfully.

I step off the train, drawing odd, somewhat frantic looks. Must be the sword. Yes, run little cockroaches! Run!

I lift my sword slightly, mock-saluting a cop. He is, it should suffice to say, utterly surprised by the gesture. Or at least, that's what I figure. Because by the time he's recovered, I'm gone.

I don't pay all that much attention to where I'm going, so when I reach the entrance to the Geofront, it's a bit… surprising.

Of course, this reveals a minor flaw in my plan. I don't have my ID card with me, so I'm stuck outside.

This leaves one choice to me. So I take it.

The Muramasa sings from its saya, and the door explodes before the strikes that not even I can see. Not that I really need to see, my body knows full well how to direct my arm.

Or maybe it's some part of my mind that operates faster than the world does? I am a demon, after all. Or so men call me.

I slip the blade back in, blinking languidly as I glide into the labyrinthine fortress.

This is going to be… fun.

/ ---

The old man is objecting strenuously. I don't know why, I'm just expressing my demand to be moved into a more fitting residence.

I tug at the bandages around my arm, observing that the torn flesh is already looking much better. I don't know why it does that. But then again, men call me a demon. So why wouldn't it?

I'm terribly amused by the fact that an _Angel_ was the thing to bring me into this world. Me. A demon. Brought into a world where Angels are the ones slaughtering humans. I guess it makes me responsible to defend them, or something. Feh, when they're gone, I'm going to find a way back. And I'm going to kill Mibu.

It's a few minutes before I realize that since I got 'back', I really haven't listened to anyone. Not that they'd have anything to say I'd be interested in. Which, of course, brings to mind an extensive assortment of possible lewd phrases that yes, I might be interested in, most of which I wasn't aware I knew. Even my mind is telling me I'm a sex addict. Must work on that.

"Right then." I interrupt, growing tired of his diatribe. "I'll just move into one of the temporary apartments in the Geofront until you get me a better place to stay."

Some of these words I'm not entirely certain I know what they mean, really. I have these… somewhere between nine and eleven years of memories in my head that are getting buried beneath mine. Details are hazy. Of course, I wasn't exactly what you'd call the primary forge before, but still.

Where was I again?

Why _is_ that old man continuing? Is it not enough that I have given him my decision? For the love of me, I'm tempted to hit him with a random skill, just because he's that annoying. Of course, this isn't really a new temptation.

Screw it. I'm leaving.

"You'll make sure everything moves along nicely then," I interrupt again.

The door opens for me, and he glares at my back. I think he expects me to be intimidated. Me, Kyo. Intimidated by some worthless commoner. The idiocy…

I should just kill him. Exercise my right as a samurai. Kill whoever I damn well please.

I'm twitching again. Heh… guess I do need to go deal with something. Now, should I go get food or a woman?

Decisions, decisions…

---

_Author's Notes: Wa-hey. 's late, I's tired. Wanna sleep. Wanna blow shit up. Wanna shoot shit.  
Anyway, monsieur Rahl: I offer that this _is _a somewhat new body for Lord Kyo. He just wanted to make sure he can kill like he should be able to first. Also note that R/S is still only a _possibility_, romance may or may not occur. But consider what Asuka is like. Brash, bossy, bratty, and a general bitch. Think about Kyo, an arrogant asshole. Furthermore, he's homicidal. I really don't see the two even _liking _each other. Then again, I might just pull an OC (or Mana) relationship. Who knows? Well, aside from me, but that's a "duh."  
Ash47, I expect there's a distinct lack of Samurai Deeper Kyo fame. I mean, I didn't even find out about it until I read around some rather obscure message boards. I think you're psychic, seeing as a couple hours ago I myself was thinking about what was going to happen to Asuka when she pissed Shinji/Kyo off. Heh… Man I'm evil. Psycho-torture ahead. Mwuhahaha…I note that you like Noir. So do I. . Man, Killing-Machine-Kirika's cool. Gotta love that "I charge at you, grabbing your uzi and using it to cut down your allies while you pull the trigger," thing she does.  
You know, jennyjennai, everyone has a use for a murdering fiend, of course Gendo does. Thing is, Kyo/Shinji doesn't much give a damn about laws. He's going to be killin' people soon enough. Nor does he much care for authority, so he just goes off and kills anyone he damn well pleases.  
Shiken offers an interesting point, collecting debts. Kyo's willing to kill anyone he wants. His priorities are a bit effed through. Or at least, in some people's opinions. While people like Gendo may be on his hit list, other people, like, say, Touji may also be. 'course, the G-man gets him killin' things, so he lives. For a while.  
Oh, and while I am aware of various opinions about swearing in Fanfiction, I take the time to point out that this _IS _Kyo. That's what he does. Can't take the swearing outta Kyo.  
And I've always wondered why Kyo always heals from damage like right away. And his kimono! It fixes itself! I want one of those!  
The rape-my-ass-over-shit-about-first-person-POV note still applies.  
Keep in mind that I don't particularly hate Asuka. No, that's a lie. I hate her. But this isn't anything personal. Kyo's just an asshole.  
__Anyway, minor techincal thing, backslashes and the vertical slash thingy aren't showing up on FF.N anymore. This is irritating, but I've changed the section dividers to compensate._

Irresponsibility: No raindrop believes that it is responsible for the flood.

Pretension: The downside of being better than everyone else is that people tend to think you pretentious.

Anti-inspirational posters from my old English teacher.


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